Sometimes, I just don't get Hutch. I don't get what makes him tick. I don't get what my owner sees in him. He's so different from my Starsky.

I mean, take Hutch's car for example (and oh how I wish someone would). It's a Ford – like me. It's not that old – neither am I. But that's where the comparison ends. Look, I'm sure it has a heart of gold beating somewhere underneath the dents that make up seventy-five percent of its chassis. It's not its fault, I know, that it looks uncared for, unloved. Some of the dents look deliberate. Who would do that to a car?

Hutch doesn't seem to notice the state of it but I do and I know it pains Starsky to even look at it.

Starsky has a totally different outlook on automobiles. He takes pride in me, washes and waxes me on a regular basis, keeps my engine purring as smooth as a contented cat. Hutch's car makes strange noises. Sometimes it's a clunking sound, sometimes the horn gets stuck on as if it's the death cry of some injured animal that needs putting out of its misery. Starsky would do it - end the poor car's suffering – but Hutch just shrugs and waits until the noise disappears again.

Today, Starsky was trying to explain my merits to Hutch in the hopes that he might finally be persuaded to go get himself a better model, something with a bit more pizazz. He even got Hutch to sit driver's side to get a better feel for me.

That felt weird, I can tell you. Since Starsky bought me, no-one else has driven me and I wouldn't want them to.

Starsky told him to start my engine and Hutch resisted, saying, "It's not gonna do any good."

I think he's probably right about that. Hutch doesn't speak my language. I don't think he even knows I'm talking. I could feel Starsky's exasperation at his friend's attitude. I was feeling pretty exasperated myself.

So then Starsky tried badgering him. "Will you start the engine? Hear that?"

I was purring beautifully, trying to show my best to Hutch, and what does he say?

"Yeah, it's an engine."

Exasperating! I don't know why Starsky even tries. But he not only tries, he carries on flogging a dead horse – if you'll pardon the grisly expression.

"Well, rev it up. Get the feel of it."

Now, I'm feeling a little exasperated with Starsky. Hutch is never going to get it, not only that but he's got big, clunky feet. I don't want them on my pedals. I want the feet I'm used to – the intuitive step of my dancing driver.

Fortunately, I'm saved by the radio going off, announcing a 2-11 in progress. Or so I think.

Starsky says, "Slide over. I'll drive."

I am mightily relieved, I can tell you, but no, wait, Hutch is saying, "No, no, wait a second. I'll give it a whirl."

Give it a whirl! What am I? A dodgem!

It's as bad as I fear. Hutch drives me like he's got lead weights attached to his feet. Starsky obviously agrees with me because he admonishes him with the words, "With your fingers, man, not your feet."

Yeah, you tell him.

When we get to the candy store, Starsky asks Hutch what he thinks about me and do you know what he says? "It's red."

Like that's a bad thing! I'll give him red. Starsky just corrects him with a hurt voice, informing him that I am a candy-apple red. Yeah, I am and don't you forget it, buddy boy. I wish I could talk loud enough for him to hear me: I'd give him a piece of my mind. I know Starsky says he's his best friend so I guess I'll have to hope one day I'll understand why.

The two of them deal with the robbery at the candy store and then we're off again. Thankfully, this time Starsky resumes his rightful place. There sure seems to be a lot of driving around with this case. That means there are lots of opportunities for me to listen and learn. I can read Starsky easily. Maybe I just have to learn Hutch's language. I guess I'll keep trying.

The next day, we drive up into the hills to investigate the discovery of a body. It's a nice day and, as I wait for them to return, I sit there contemplating the world. Minding my own business. Suddenly something feels wrong. I've been attacked. Someone has cut my brake lines!

I can see Starsky and Hutch heading back toward me and I try to get Starsky's attention but he doesn't hear me. He's too busy talking about the case. No, no, no. They get in and start driving back down into the city, picking up speed as we go. Nothing I can do about it and believe me, I'm trying. I don't want to end up on a scrap-heap and I sure as heck don't want Starsky hurt…or Hutch.

All of a sudden, I feel two things; Starsky's dawning realisation of the situation and the way his foot is desperately trying to get my brake to work; and Hutch's hands gripping onto my door and seat with alarm in every strained digit.

They shout at each other offering various suggestions that I know aren't going to work and then Starsky says, "Look, I think you better jump."

If I'm reading him right, it's because he wants to try to avoid as many people as he can before we finally have to admit defeat and crash and he doesn't want Hutch to get hurt. Nothing so surprising there – it's just what he always does. I have to say that I'm kind of moved by his bravery and also by knowing that I won't die alone.

Hutch counters the suggestion with: "Don't be funny."

Starsky exhorts him to be jump so he won't be killed and do you know what Hutch says? Can you guess?

He tells Starsky to jump. When Starsky responds that he's driving so Hutch should jump, Hutch says, ""I'll drive. You jump."

Huh? It doesn't even make sense and then with a piercing clarity it does. Hutch isn't going to leave Starsky's side, even if it means they both get maimed or worse dead.

As we careen a few hundred yards more, I don't have time to think much and then abruptly the land starts to go up again and my momentum is slowed and Starsky manages to bring me to a complete stop. And suddenly Hutch is babbling a woman's name in a way that tells me he's cracked the missing piece of the case. It surprises me almost as much as it surprises Starsky.

As the two of them fix my brake lines and head back to work, I realise two things.

Hutch might just be a genius and that explains why he's so weird.

And that loyalty, that love that he showed towards Starsky, makes perfect sense to me.

So I guess I do get Hutch after all.